


Boggart

by kaybells



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ilvermorny, F/F, F/M, Ilvermorny, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaybells/pseuds/kaybells
Summary: Dread Witch, Dread WitchTen feet tallDread Witch, Red WitchRun hide crawlDreaded redRuby eyes,Dread, deadThe beasts will rise.





	1. Frostbite

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this so I could play in J.K. Rowling's world.  
> The world doesn't technically belong to me, but the people in it do. I have a lot of this planned and this is mainly a labor of love since I doubt anyone is going to read it since it doesn't have any characters anyone would recognize, but yeah. 
> 
> Also say what you want but Ilvermorny as the only school for North America Does Not Make Sense.

Hell is cold.

Thalia can feel her blood freeze, shivering as her body betrays her and threatens to rip itself apart. The weight of her angel’s hand on her forehead is heavy, pinning her to a surgical table in the center of a windowless room. He strokes her hair, grounding her in the present. She worries about her baby, offhandedly, the one that she’s been carrying for eight and a half months. As her body is racked with another spasm, Thalia wonders if she is supposed to push.

  
“ _Imperio._ ” Her angel whispers. His words slither into Thalia’s mind, wrapping it in fog. His voice is a snake, taking her doubts and wrapping them in deadly coils, squeezing them tight until her head is empty.

  
Her angel says that _everything is okay_. The _baby is fine_. That she needs to _be quiet_. _Silencio_. The angel talks so much and says so many things, that when he finally pushes the knife past her ribcage and into her heart Thalia is almost thankful. She tastes copper, imagines the red painting her teeth as blood bubbles up in her throat.

  
Her vision is dimming, but she sees the angel wrench the knife from her chest and aim it at her stomach.  
He hisses, “ _Finite Incantem_.”  
Thalia doesn’t have the strength left to scream.


	2. Summer.

  
The walls are thin, so it’s not like Maia can’t hear them talking about her. Somehow snatches of her parent’s conversation managed to filter their way past the thick comforter she’d pulled over her head. She was tempted to simply ignore them; Saturday’s were holy, reserved for sleeping in and piously ignoring the enormous pile of work on her desk.

“Maia…” Her mom said. The TV turned on as someone –Jill, probably- flipped through the morning news, its low murmur further masking their voices. “…mountain?”

Most of the time, Maia tried to respect their privacy. The three women lived in each other’s pockets, their family having outgrown the tiny apartment three years ago when her mom and Jill had gotten married.

If it was something important, they usually told her. No reason to deviate from her normal Saturday routine. She could hear her mom moving around the kitchen, the flip flops she liked to wear slapping the floor as she walked. Maia buried her head further under the covers.

“Alisha…” Jill said. “…Ilvermorny.”

Maia’s eyes snapped open. She nearly fell out of bed, throwing her legs over the side and shoving her feet into her slippers, half stumbling as she moved to press her ear to the wall her bedroom shared with the kitchen. This was her usual eavesdropping spot; the sound quality was almost like she was standing in the kitchen with them.

“Jill, I don’t even know if we could afford it.” Her mom said. “My last book was two years ago, and the MACUSA stipend stops when she turns seventeen.”

“I have a friend; he knows someone that’s on the decision committee for Ilvermorny’s scholarship program.” Jill said. “Maia’s the ideal candidate- a no-maj parent, good grades at her current school…” Maia winced as the clatter of a plate being set down cut Jill off.

“Lish, come on. If she wants to stay in the wizarding world, Tex-Wiz is only going to hold her back.” Jill pleaded.

Slap slap slap. The flip flops were on the move again, beating the tiled floor in a merciless staccato.

“She’s my daughter, Jill. I don’t remember asking your opinion on how to raise her.” Her mom’s words were sharp and possessive, designed to drill their way underneath Jill’s skin. Maia winced. Her mom was an expert in weaponizing people’s insecurities.

Maia had fourteen years of experience under her belt weathering her mom’s personality, and sometimes it still baffled her how Jill had just breezed into their lives with seemingly automatic immunity.

“That’s not fair and you know it.” She sounded calm, but you could never tell with Jill. The woman was unflappable. If anything it was like the angrier Maia’s mom got, the more even keeled Jill became.

“Alisha.” Jill said.

It was quiet, and Maia could only imagine her mother’s expression. By now her face would be twisted into a basilisk’s glare, strong enough to turn even Jill to stone.

“ _Lish_.” Jill said.

“It’s a boarding school.” Her mom said finally. The words were so soft that Maia thought her ear would merge into the plaster if she pressed her head against the wall any harder.

Suddenly, Maia understood. Alisha normally listened to Jill when it came to anything pertaining to magic; Jill was a witch and Alisha was a no-maj, so there were places that Alisha just couldn’t go, things she just couldn’t understand that Maia had to deal with. Maia’s mom tended to react to this perceived distance by pulling her impossibly close, attempting to bridge the gap in between their two worlds by never letting Maia go too far for too long. And Ilvermorny? Even though it’d been Maia’s dream for years, the school was almost 2,000 miles away.

An owl had come when Maia was eleven, tapping on their window with an envelope bearing the Ilvermorny crest clutched in its talons. Maia had wanted to go then too, but there’d been a million reasons as to why she couldn’t. Jill hadn’t entered their lives yet, and something had twisted deep in Maia’s gut at the thought of leaving her mother alone. Plus, Ilvermorny tuition was notoriously high. Even with Alisha publishing a book every year and the monthly stipend they got from the MACUSA for Maia’s “magical wellbeing”, they wouldn’t have been able to afford it. Maia had run the numbers herself, but it’d been obvious that the Texas Wizarding Academy was the only realistic option.

But Maia was fourteen now, and although transfers into Ilvermorny were rare they weren’t unheard of. All of the reasons that’d had held her back at eleven didn’t apply anymore, and if she wanted to make a name for herself as a mediwitch Ilvermorny was her best shot.

She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let her mom talk Jill out of it.

Maia opened the door of her room and slipped out into the hall, keeping her face blank as both her mother and Jill glanced up with startled expressions. They were both very familiar with Maia’s unwavering observance of Saturday as a day of rest, so Maia could understand their surprise.

“Hey, kid. Did we wake you?” Jill asked, offering a wan smile and pushing a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear.

“Ilvermorny?” Maia answered, seating herself at the table and loading a plate with pancakes.

“Yeah, about that. I want to go.” She ignored Jill’s raised eyebrow and the way her mom’s fingers tightened around the handle of the skillet in favor of drowning her plate in syrup.

“Oh, well. That’s great!” Jill said. Even though it wasn’t aimed at her, Maia could feel the heat radiating off of her mom’s stare and shivered. Jill barreled on, oblivious to her impending doom. “I have a friend; she knows someone on the decision committee. I know you’ve always wanted to go, so I asked and they said you’d be a shoe-in for the program. A no-maj mom, middle class…” She faltered a bit, glancing at Alisha.

“That sounds amazing.” Maia said, trying to tamp down on the butterflies in her stomach. She watched her mom out of the corner of her eye, noting the way Alisha’s mouth turned down at the corners.

When she was little, Maia hadn’t been allowed to even sleep over at a friend’s house, even people she’d known for years. Not that she would have wanted to, but it was still the principle of the thing. She’d always used her mom’s overprotectiveness as a way to avoid interacting with other people, but this time? She needed Ilvermorny. Now that it was an option, she couldn’t imagine wanting anything more.

“Mom, if I get in, can I go?” Maia asked.

“Why? You hear of kids making it from Tex-Wiz all the time. That boy, what’s his name? Jared? Jeremy--” Alisha rambled.

“Jayden, mom. And he didn’t make it, not really. He just became an Auror.”

“Hey!” Jill said.

“No offense, Jill. I meant that he became a distinguished cog in the bureaucracy that is magical law enforcement.”

“You bet your ass I was distinguished.” Jill grumbled, but she was smiling so Maia figured that everything was fine. Jill had been an Auror for ten years before she got into journalism, but she still regarded her old career fondly.

“I want to be a mediwitch, mom.” Maia said. “And if I want to qualify for a residency at St. Mungo’s, or Hopkins…” She let her words trail off, letting Alisha fill in the blanks.

The silence pressed down around them, and Maia chanced another look at her mom. Alisha’s face was carefully blank, but knowing her as she did Maia guessed that internally her mother was suppressing the urge to yell.

“Do what you want, Mai. I gotta… I’m gonna be late for work.” Alisha said.

She pushed back from the table, walking stiffly to her room. Alisha left the apartment ten minutes later. Even though she’d moved at a normal speed, something in the set of her shoulders told Maia that her mom was running. She stared down at the tablecloth, tracing the checked pattern with her eyes. She’d never meant to make her mom hurt, but her future was important. Most of her friends’ parents would have jumped at the chance to send their kids to the best magical institution in North America. And it wasn’t even like her mom would be left alone—Jill was here to stay, and without Maia in the way they’d probably be able to spend more time together. Why was her mom being so stubborn?

Jill and Maia finished the rest of their meal quietly, Jill waving her wand and letting the dishes wash themselves when they were through.

“I still want to go. Even if it makes her hate me.” Maia said finally.

Jill rolled her wand in between her palms, worrying her lower lip in between her teeth.

“If anything, your mom will hate me.” Jill said. “She just, she worries, you know? And it probably doesn’t help our case when she feels like we’re ganging up on her.”

“True.” Maia sighed, slouching backwards in her chair.

“But… That being said, I already set up an interview with the registrar for Monday.” Jill grinned.

Maia gasped, launching herself across the table to tackle Jill in a bear hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you--”

“Don’t get too happy, kiddo.” Jill said, tugging lightly at one of Maia’s box braids. “I’ve done my part, but you have to be the one to actually convince her.”

Maia pulled back from the hug, smiling despite herself. She knew that her mom would be a hard sell, and her stomach clenched anxiously at the thought of confrontation. But… _Ilvermorny._

Her stomach fluttered again, but this time it felt a little bit like hope.

 

 


	3. The Talk

Maia trailed Jill as she moved around the apartment getting ready for work, bombarding her with rapid-fire questions.

“What’s Ilvermorny like?” Maia asked.

“Beautiful.” Jill said, holding out her hand patiently as her shoes wriggled their way from underneath the couch. “Magical.” She smirked as they flew into her palm with a _smack._  

“What house were you in?”

“Horned Serpent.” Jill smoothed her hair back into a messy bun, shrugging on a black blazer.

“Did you have a lot of friends?”

“Define a lot.” Jill laughed.

“And all I have to do is pass a test?”

“Yes, Maia. All you have to do is pass a test.”

            Jill deftly dodged the rest of her interrogation, pulling Maia into a quick hug before breezing out of the door. Maia watched her leave, feeling hundreds of questions bubble their way to the surface to replace the ones she’d already asked. One test, and that was it. Then she’d be a witch at one of the greatest magical institutions in the world. It felt too good to be true; magic or no, dreams just didn’t fall into people’s laps like this.

Dazed, Maia walked to her room and fell face first onto the mattress. She turned her head to the side, frowning as she looked at her desk. Her laptop took up most of the space, its chrome shell glinting in the morning sunlight. The rest of her desk was covered in haphazard piles of loose paper, sketchbooks and art supplies. Maia sighed as she thought about all of the commissions she had to work on, but she felt too restless to draw seriously, her magic buzzing underneath her skin. She sat up, grabbing a sketchbook and flipping it open to a clean page. Whenever she felt like this it was easier to give her magic an outlet, and since she couldn’t cast something to take the edge off while away from school, drawing was the next best thing.  

Originally, her art had been a way to show her mom the amazing things she witnessed on a daily basis. Her favorite things to sketch were instances where she saw the magical juxtaposed with the mundane, the wizarding world coexisting next to the no-maj one in oblivious harmony. Then, it became a way to center herself, cutting down drastically on her accidental magic.  She drew so often that sometimes a pencil felt more natural than her wand.

Her mind drifted as the pencil moved fluidly on the page. Quick, deft strokes outlined a mountain, her thumb smudging the clouds surrounding it to life. On top she outlined a castle, with…

Oh—

Her fingers stuttered as she saw what she’d been drawing. Even though she’d never seen it in real life, Maia recognized Ilvermorny from the brochure she kept tucked underneath her mattress. The main entrance was flanked by the statues of the school’s founders, James and Isolt Sayre. In the brochure the clouds moved around and obscured most of the castle, but Maia had always tried to fill in the gaps with her mind’s eye. Her fingers started moving again, imaging turrets and buttresses. Was there a moat? How tall were the towers? All of her ached to know, but it wasn’t like she could google it. She looked at her drawing again, frustrated that she had no way of knowing if it was at all accurate.   

Besides the brochure, all she had to go off of were Jill’s vague descriptions and her best friend Cisco’s murky memory. Jill had graduated years ago, and Cisco was more concerned with the people living in the castle than the structure itself.

She started sketching again, this time consciously doodling a quidditch player victoriously holding a snitch above his head. Maia held her breath and touched him with her index finger, smiling as the tiny figure startled to life and started flying around the page in earnest, thin clouds catching on his uniform.

            The spell was something Cisco had made up so she could animate her art, a bit of wandless magic that was so under the radar that the MACUSA wouldn’t fine her for being underage. She felt loads better, the incessant roar of her power dialing back to a more manageable hum.

Maybe it was a sign, that her magic was obsessed with Ilvermorny too.

            Her current school, Tex-Wiz wasn’t _bad_ per say; every year since its opening in 1950 it mechanically churned out competent batches of witches and wizards that went on to do mediocre things for the rest of mediocre lives. The school had a dual education policy, meaning students had to study a no-maj curriculum alongside their wizarding one. It mollified non-magical parents’ concerns about their children’s ability to function in the normal world, but because Tex-Wiz did both the magical side of their education wasn’t as in depth as it could have been.  

            Maia flipped the cover to her sketchbook closed. She was _bored,_ even with her restlessness having subsided. Pulling out her phone, she flopped onto the couch and dialed Cisco’s number, chewing her thumb nail nervously. She hadn’t talked to him in two weeks outside of texting each other memes, and she missed him.  

Maia smiled as the ringing stopped.

 “Are you dying?” Cisco answered.  

“Wow, chivalry is _dead._ Whatever happened to ‘hello’?” Maia snarked.

 “Are you running a fever? Possessed by a demon?”

 “No, Coco.” Maia rolled her eyes. “Sadly, I am demon-free.”

“Mai, it’s noon on a Saturday. You’re _never_ awake this early on a Saturday. You have literally threated me, on pain of death, to never call you this early on the weekend.”

Their banter was the easy rapport of two people who had known each other for most of their lives. Francisco Leyva had been her best friend ever since their moms had met touring their apartment complex, immediately setting up play dates for their toddler children. They’d become _Cisco-and-Maia_ , inseparable and thicker than thieves. They’d learned magic together, practicing control around Cisco’s dining room table as Mrs. Leyva guided them through basic exercises. Where one went, the other followed, at least until Cisco had gotten accepted to Ilvermorny on a full ride when they were eleven.

“Seriously though, what’s up? You alright?” Cisco asked.

“Yeah, I’m--” Maia started. There was a loud crash somewhere in the background and Cisco swore.

“Hold on a sec Maia.”

            She sighed. Cisco was apprenticed to a spellmaker based in the wizarding city surrounding the base of Mt. Greylock. It was really prestigious, and a non-prank related way to harness his penchant for dabbling with random spell combinations. Even though Maia was proud of him, it meant he wasn’t going to be home for the whole summer. There was a rustle on the other end of the line.

“Dude, I gotta go. Jordan’s dumbass _swished_ when he should have _flicked_ , and his Latin is complete crap so of course I have to clean up his mess…” He trailed off, and Maia realized he was waiting for her to respond.

“Oh! Yeah, it’s cool. I’ll just, I’ll talk to you later?” She burrowed further into the couch, cradling her cell phone in between her neck and her shoulder.

“That’d be great! I think I might come home next Saturday, so if you keep up this early to rise thing we could go get breakfast? I miss San Antonio; the air is too thin up here man.” Cisco laughed.

“Yeah, sure.” Maia’s voice sounded hollow to her own ears. “Sounds great.”

“Okay, I really have to—Jordan, _no,_ what in the actual hell?”

            She heard another loud bang, and the line clicked as Cisco hung up. Most of the time it didn’t bother her that Cisco had such a hectic schedule; she loved that he was making the most of his time at Ilvermorny. She’d even –mostly- gotten over the jealousy that had threated to ruin their friendship the whole first year he was gone. But Maia had needed reassurance that she was good enough, that she wasn’t reaching too high, that she wasn’t doomed to fail. That she wasn’t an idiot for wanting it so badly all she could sketch were pictures of a half-hidden castle.  

“I’m gonna convince Mom. I have to.” She said to the empty room.  

Maia stared stubbornly at the ceiling like it could give her answers, and before she knew it she’d fallen back into a fitful sleep.

***

At a quarter past six, Maia heard the tell-tale snick of a key turning in a lock. It had to be her mom, because Jill usually forewent using the keys Alisha insisted everyone have, preferring to just cast an _alohomara._ Maia quickly shoved the textbooks off of her lap, hiding them under the couch pillows and snatching an old magazine off of the end table. She opened it to a random page, making sure she looked busy as her mom muscled two armloads of groceries through the doorway.

            Maia glanced up, pretending like she hadn’t known her mom was home.

“Do you need any help?” She asked.

            Alisha paused when she saw Maia on the couch.

“I’ve got it.” She said, dropping a quick kiss on Maia’s forehead. “What made you pick up that old thing?” Alisha nodded at the magazine in Maia’s lap before walking into the kitchen to start dinner.

            Maia looked down, realizing that she’d grabbed an old copy of _Witches’ Weekly_ instead of the _Entertainment Weekly_ she’d been aiming for. It was the only copy of a competing wizarding publication allowed in the apartment out of household loyalty to the _Rio Rag_. This issue was special because it featured a full page spread about Alisha and her first book- _The Best of Both Worlds: A No-Maj Guide to Raising a Magical Child._

“I was just bored.” Maia lied.   

            In reality, she’d been studying, poring over old material so nothing in Ilvermorny placement exam could take her by surprise. She couldn’t tell her mom that though; this morning was still playing itself back in Maia’s mind in a torturous loop. There wasn’t any need to make her Mom more upset.  

“How do you feel about burgers? With some curly fries and I don’t know,  a salad?” Alisha asked. The clatter of pots and pans tried its best to drown out the stilted silence that stretched between them.

 “Sounds good.” Maia said.

            The smell of sizzling beef was already wafting through the air when Jill walked in about a half hour later, her wand disappearing up its sheath as she went to where Alisha stood in front of the stove.  

            The ensuing flurry of hissed whispers made Maia flush with guilt. She could tell that they were arguing, probably about her. Jill wrapped her arms around Alisha’s waist, who leant stiffly back into the embrace. Her mom hadn’t left yet, or started yelling, so at least that was progress.  

            Maia looked down at the magazine. Alisha was one of the only no-maj’s in known history to be in a wizarding publication for something that wasn’t considered historical tragedy. She opened it to the page with her mom’s interview.

            Maia traced the giant block letters with her fingers, her fingers sliding along the page’s glossy surface.  

 _No-maj author Alisha Wilson helps ease the way for mixed families with her new book_ \- ‘ _The Best of Both Worlds: A No-Maj Guide to Raising a Magical Child’._

A wizarding photo of her mom took up the entire right page. Alisha hadn’t been entirely used to magic back then, and as a result the only thing that moved were her eyes, which darted back and forth between the camera and the witch standing beside it. Maia had always found the picture mildly terrifying, like her mom was trapped inside of the pages. When she was younger she used to leave the magazine open so that Alisha would be able to breathe.

Maia looked up over the half-wall that divided the kitchen and the living room, watching as Jill held Alisha, her head tucked firmly underneath Jill’s chin.

“I’ll take care of dinner, alright? You guys need to talk.” Jill said, loud enough for Maia to hear. Maia knew it was on purpose, a sort of head’s up so she could have time to steel herself. Jill pecked Alisha on the lips, pushing her lightly towards the living room.

Alisha walked forward before stopping to hover uncertainly at the edge of the couch.

“Mama.” Maia rolled her eyes. “Come on.”

Alisha slid onto the cushion next to Maia, tucking her knees underneath her chin. It made her look much _younger_ than her thirty years, and so nakedly vulnerable that it almost hurt to look at. Her mom was beautiful, her rich brown skin draped over high cheekbones, full lips pulled into a worried pout. Alisha’s hair defied gravity in a latticework of tiny coils, brushed up into a slick puff.

 “So… Ilvermorny.” She said.

Maia grimaced. She hated beating around the bush, but she knew that sometimes her mom needed time to gather her thoughts before diving right into something. It frustrated Maia endlessly, but she knew not to push.

She’d only seen her mom act this uncertain once before, when it’d taken her two weeks to gather the courage to tell Maia about Jill. Alisha had ghosted around the apartment for days, lingering at the edge of Maia’s awareness until Maia had finally snapped and asked her what was wrong.

Alisha had admitted that she was seeing someone, and that it was getting serious. She hadn’t met Maia’s eyes when she said that it was a woman, but added that if it made Maia uncomfortable she’d break it off. Like she’d been afraid Maia was going to _reject_ her or something. Alisha been born into strictly religious household, her whole family abandoning her after she’d wound up knocked up at sixteen with no idea who the father was, and her worry stemmed from issues that had everything and nothing to do with having a baby too soon.

Maia, aged ten, had pulled her mom into a hug and told her in no simple terms that if Jill made Alisha happy, Maia couldn’t wait to meet her.

“Sometimes it’s hard to accept that you guys get to do all of these amazing things and can just leave me behind.” Alisha began, startling Maia from her reverie.

 “I know that ya’ll wouldn’t do that, and that you’re getting older and that I should, I don’t know, loosen the reins?” She pauses, thinking.

“When you were three, things just started exploding. You would cry, and things would just… go off like there were tiny bombs planted around the house. I didn’t even notice a connection until I walked into our room and you made a bottle float over to you from the dresser. I had to find the fucking MACUSA myself…”

            Alisha took a deep breath.

            “I saw firsthand how wizards are, you know? They kept denying that magic existed, even when I told to someone that there was _no other_ way to explain what was happening. And I never wanted you to be like that, to think you were better than anyone else. Better than me.”  

Maia had heard the story a million times, and the news rags had printed it a million more. Alisha Wilson, a no-maj, storming the gates of the MACUSA with a toddler strapped to her back.

 “Mom…” Maia tried.

“Let me talk, please?” She paused. “It was just us for so long, baby girl. And I thought Tex-Wiz could maybe be _it_ for you, because they let you do magic but also kept you rooted in my world. But I don’t want to hold you back, and I don’t want you to resent me. And yet a huge part of me doesn’t want you to leave.”

“ _Mom._ ” Maia said brokenly. Sometimes it was easy for her to forget how alone her mom had been before Maia had grown big enough to talk back, and thinking about it made the guilt return tenfold. “Even if I didn’t go, I’d understand. I’d hate it, but I’d understand.”  

“I knew you’d say that. Why’re you like, the perfect kid?” Alisha laughed to herself, bringing an agitated hand to wipe at her eyes. She cried delicately, like the tears had snuck past an invisible dam. She was still beautiful though.

Maia could see their resemblance sometimes, but in reality she was like a bad copy. Like someone had tried to print out a picture of her mom, but the pages got stuck or the ink had run out. Where Alisha had the body of an Olympic sprinter, Maia was short and chubby. Alisha’s skin was a rich milk chocolate, but pubescent acne made Maia look more like a half-melted crunch bar. Maia supposed that the discrepancies could be something she picked up from her father’s side of the family, but since they didn’t know who he was there was no way to be sure.   

 “I won’t go, Mom. It’s okay.” Maia said. In her mind, her mental image of Ilvermorny crumbled under the weight of her disappointment.

“No, Mai. I’m not trying to…” Alisha let out a frustrated groan. “I’m just trying to tell you where I’m coming from, so maybe you’ll forgive me quicker. Not so you feel obligated to stay.”

“What?” Maia said.

“You can go, baby. Just… Floo home on the holidays, and owl me letters and sketches of all of your new friends. And I doubt texting will work in the school proper, just… Let me know you’re alright, okay?”

“What?” Maia said again. Her brain seemed like it was trying it’s best to short circuit.

“You can go.” Her mom said. Tears still glittered in Alisha’s eyes, but her smile was real as she pulled Maia forward into a hug, the magazine fluttering onto the floor.

“Aw, no invite?” Jill said, breaking the silence. Alisha let Maia go, grinning up at her wife.

“I owe you an apology too. Maia’s yours, and I’m sorry for ever making it seem like she wasn’t. I love you, and thank you for looking out for her. And for making me see sense.” Alisha said.

A wide smile broke out over Jill’s face before she vaulted over the back of the couch, sprawling out over their laps.

“Man I love you guys.” Jill said contentedly, pillowing her head in Alisha’s lap and spreading her legs out over Maia’s. Alisha’s return smile was full of adoration, her fingers burrowing themselves in Jill’s hair, tugging her head up for a kiss.

“ _Gross_ , guys.” Maia said without heat, shoving Jill’s feet off of her. She went to the stove, where the last of the hamburgers were still sizzling. Maia glanced back over her shoulder, memorizing the image of her parents cuddling on the couch.  She flipped a patty over so it could brown on the other side.

“Ow! Really kid?” Maia heard. Jill was holding up one of the textbooks Maia had hidden under the pillows. It was her third year Care of Magical Creatures textbook, which had a penchant for nibbling on unsuspecting toes when it could get away with it.

Maia giggled, imagining exactly how Jill had found it. Her mom would be alright with her gone, she realized.

The little family ate dinner around the TV, watching _Captain America: The Winter Soldier._ They laughed when Cap and Natasha kissed, cried when Bucky didn’t recognize Cap, sat with full stomachs through the end credit scenes. 

Maia wouldn’t have had it any other way.


End file.
